Oh, Legolas, You Didn't
by Wildhorses1492
Summary: Thranduil raised Legolas by himself, we all know that. We don't know of all those years, only that Legolas is NOT like Father Dearest. He's a bit too impatient, a bit too prone to wanderlust, too much in love with the unknown. So, how much of a challenge was it for Thranduil to raise his Darling Son? (adding chapters when I'm inspired)
1. Chapter 1

**Breakfast:**

"No Ada, I don't want to eat and more of… _that_ ," The elfling pushed the delicately crafted plate away from his frowning face, nose turned up in disdain; wrinkling the once-smooth white tablecloth and causing crystal goblets and other objects on the table to chime in silver bell-like tones as they collided with one another. The Elvenking calmly pushed the items in question apart, hoping to avoid catastrophe.

"Legolas, if you wish to be finished for the moment, then you may be; but you are not leaving this table until you have cleared your plate," Thranduil admonished his son as he stood and followed after two of his advisors and a captain.

He had walked a pace outside of the dining hall, when suddenly from behind him a large crash reverberated through the air. The Elvenking stiffened, wincing; blue eyes closed tightly. He wondered what his young son had damaged now. Regaining an air of feigned dignity and majesty, he turned back to the open doors, the hem of his robe meeting the floor of his woodland hall with an echoing swish.

He stopped in amazement and disbelief when he saw the sight before his eyes. "Oh, Legolas, you didn't…" He whispered, barely able to form the words.

"Forgive me, Ada… But you said I could not leave the table, you said nothing of target practice… And I did not know that this would happen!" the elfling defended his actions rather sheepishly, standing with hands clasped over his bow; what had once been his breakfast dripping from his blonde hair and shoulders.

"But however did you manage…" The Elvenking could not finish his sentence. He straightened, closing his eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep inhale; he tried to compose himself; he was the King of the Woodland Realm after all.

"The lip of the vase caught the edge of my plate. You should have seen it, Ada, it was – I didn't break the vase!" the Prince pointed out, breaking off from the subject of watching his meal fly through the air.

"And that can be accounted as something fortunate," Thranduil agreed, nodding ever so slightly. He turned to go, but before he had even stepped one booted foot from the hall, the resounding tinkle of broken glass assailed his keen ears. He paused, glancing at a guard near the door. "Should I regret turning?" he asked casually. The guard glanced past the king, and then nodded briefly in affirmation.

"Please tend to… what is left of the vase, and then send someone to tend to my son," the Elvenking ordered evenly, trying to remain indifferent about the vase that he knew was lying in thousands of tiny crystal fragments on his hall floor.

"Oh, Legolas…" Thranduil sighed as he walked away.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And this is what someone does when they don't want to concentrate on their chaptered fanfics. I should not even be dabbling in Hobbit right now with what I have on my plate! But this little Idea would not go away. So here it is: parody drabbles. I may be inspired to make a story off of this, but that depends...These will probably be short, a few chapters at most. All set before lotr & Hobbit. Mostly when Legolas is young.**

 **My knowledge of all things elven and the Tolkien world is limited, so please, if I ever get anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me. Also, my elvish vocabulary is limited, I use multiple sources, so I don't know if it's correct or not. But again, this is all in fun and not meant to be serious. R &R please,**

 **WH**


	2. Chapter 2

**Braids**

The Elvenking was in his study reading; sitting in a chair near the balcony; which led down into his private garden. Nearby, on a small round table, was a bottle of wine which he had indulged himself in while reading. As he read another passage, he slowly sipped the dark liquid, making a mental note to order more of this vintage for the upcoming festival.

He jerked up from his reclined position, sitting rigidly; spilling a little more than just a few drops of the red wine onto his book's pages when he heard a cry of frustration and then a very, very loud – and wet – splash. He set the book down, after glancing distractedly at the pages and noticing the stains.

 _"Do I really wish to know what has happened?"_ He thought with a sigh, glancing toward the balcony with well-concealed, but nevertheless it was there, trepidation. Resigning himself, he set the goblet down on the table beside the book and rose from his seat.

Walking toward the balcony, his boots whispered against the floor, and more than a few of the hairs in his dark eyebrows turned dazzlingly silver. He stopped, struggling to maintain a reserved composure, as he beheld his son. All he wanted to do was run to the elfling, take him by the shoulders and ask, ' _how_?' however, he knew that as King of the Woodland Realm, it was his to be calm and collected at all times.

 _"Oh, Legolas, you didn't…"_

Gracefully, he descended the stairs to ask his son just why he had decided to fall into the pool. _Again_.

"Oh, Ada, Were you resting, _ten'_ _anta_ , I didn't mean to disturb you. There was this bird, Ada, it was so fast, it stopped at all the flowers; how small it was, Ada; and so bright, like crystals reflecting in the sun!" Legolas exclaimed with enthusiasm.

Thranduil tried not to smile at his son's way with words. _"He has quite a gift, which he gets from you, does he not,_ _Melamin?"_ The Elvenking mused silently. He did fairly well at hiding his smile, but the corners of his lips still turned up slightly; even though his son stood before him wet, muddy and looking not at all like an elven Prince.

"If you were observing this bird, this _hummingbird_ , how then did you fall into the pool?" The father asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing slightly at the small body of water behind the little elfling. Legolas glanced in the same direction, a slight look of discomfort on his face as he recalled the incident.

"It was an accident, Ada, the wind– my hair–" the elfling grasped the damp blonde locks tumbling down either side of his head in his small hands. His blue eyes stared up at his father.

"I see," Thranduil replied vaguely. "Perhaps it is time I taught you something." He began walking toward a stone bench nearby; Legolas ran quickly to catch up.

"Sit here." Thranduil motioned for the elfling to sit next to him. Legolas complied quickly, although he wondered what his father was going to do. The Elvenking slid so he was almost sitting cross-legged on the stone seat, but not quite; an Elvenking never sat like a Man; it was too crude.

With deftness, he began twisting Legolas' damp hair away from his eyes, the small braids working wonders on the wayward locks that were always bothering the elfling. "There now, _Tithin Las Nin,_ does this not help?" Thranduil removed his fingers from the small strands, smiling slightly as the elfling turned to look at him.

"Oh, Ada, _diola_ _lle_! You must teach me so I can do it myself," the elfling declared after a long moment, running his fingers over the braids.

"Of course, _ion_ - _nin_ , in a few years," Thranduil agreed, standing.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _ten'_ _anta (forgive me?)_

 _diola_ _lle (thank you)?_

 _Ion-nin (my son, son?)_

 ** _I don't (obviously) know if I'm getting the elvish translations correct, so please don't criticize that too much, I tried! This was inspired after looking at some pictures of them on Deviantart and several I'd found on the internet. I don't know why I've written these, but, it's something light and simple, I did not intend for them to be deep._**

 ** _I know nothing about this family, save for what I've read and watched! So please, don't judge me too harshly if I have written something incorrectly. I own nothing!_**

 ** _Now, please R &R, Thank you,_**

 ** _WH_**


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